


Out-of-Place Cravings

by TheDarknessFactor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessFactor/pseuds/TheDarknessFactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You actually tip this joint five dollars?”</p>
<p>And that’s when Bruce decides that he must’ve passed out in the lab, because Natasha Romanoff is definitely not standing in the Stark Tower lobby, dressed in the garish colors of the pizza chain, holding three boxes and looking bored out of her mind (so, like any normal pizza delivery person).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out-of-Place Cravings

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooo, everyone! So, I've recently filled a ton of prompts over on Tumblr, and it's time I started posting them. This one was for a pizza delivery AU from dairxoxo, and it was a lot of fun to write. Hope you guys like it!

Bruce doesn’t often notice his hunger.  It sneaks up on him at weird times - like three in the morning, or two hours after noon, or (once) while he was in the shower - he’d almost doubled over from the sudden hunger pangs.  His habit of forgetting when normal meal times are (while not as bad as Tony’s) means that he’s become fairly well-acquainted with pizza chains that do 24-hour delivery.  The crust usually tastes like cardboard and he’s not sure he wants to know what the cheese really is, but it’s food, so he’ll eat it.

Bruce is the one to take the elevator down to the lobby this time, fumbling with a five-dollar bill in his pocket (he’d forgotten to tip the last delivery guy, to his mortification).  His mind is half-on Tony’s rambles about small-scale fusion reactors and the potential use of them in people’s homes, so at first he doesn’t notice.

“Hi,” he says distractedly, shoving the five at them while he undoes a mathematical equation and tries to reconstruct it; Tony can’t be right, there has to be a different permutation - 

“You actually tip this joint five dollars?”

And that’s when Bruce decides that he must’ve passed out in the lab, because Natasha Romanoff is definitely not standing in the Stark Tower lobby, dressed in the garish colors of the pizza chain, holding three boxes and looking bored out of her mind (so, like any normal pizza delivery person).  Bruce just stands there, waiting patiently to wake up, until she shoves the boxes into his arms and marches out the door.

He returns to the lab in something like shell-shock; Tony waves his hand in front of his face several times before he finally gives up and pokes Bruce’s cheek, smudging engine grease on it.  That’s enough to jerk him out of his stupor, and he puts the boxes on a table that (miraculously) has space on it, after making sure that the suspicious-looking cylinder on it isn’t an explosive.  

Tony starts their conversation right from where they left off, but Bruce’s thought process has been effectively derailed.

“Do you know what the rest of the team is up to these days?” he asks.  

Tony pauses in his rambling, slice of pizza halfway to his mouth.  “What?  That has nothing to do with math, Bruce, that’s all people things.  Pepper would probably know better than I do, I’ve asked her to keep an eye on them for me.”

Bruce isn’t sure what to do with the revelation that Pepper Potts (she’s a lovely woman; he’s spoken with her a few times and discussed the finer points of rooftop gardens) is apparently turning into another Nick Fury in addition to being a formidable business tycoon, so he ignores it for now and tries to remember the point he’d been planning on making about the equation.

Considering that the absurdity of the situation in the lobby, his argument goes about as well as he expects, and results in an explosion a few hours later.

Tony points at him.  “Don’t you dare say ‘I told you so’.”

* * *

“I think that you agreeing to go to this was probably the best thing you could’ve done.  Did you see those people?  They were practically drooling onto their nice shirts, and god knows your ego needs stroking.”

It’s a rare day that Tony makes a comment about an ego other than his own.

At the moment, Bruce is mostly regretting his spur-of-the-moment, he-actually-drank-a-couple-glasses-of-wine decision to accompany Tony to a Science of Tomorrow convention.  The combination of the promise of a quick car ride and the fact that Dr. Foster is supposed to be present, along with the esteemed Dr. Cho (Bruce had been dying to meet her for a while, and was mortified when Tony found out about his obsession), made him more compliant with Tony’s diabolical scheme entitled, ‘Get Banner Outside (For Fuck’s Sake, The Guy Looks Like a Ghost)’.  Tony’s words, not his.

They’re taking a break in the hotel room right now (”Why do we need a hotel room?”  “It’s a convention, Bruce, hotel rooms are the only way to spend the night at one of these.”  “Tony, we live two blocks away…”).  Bruce has ordered pizza because Tony scoffed at the idea of dining at the hotel’s high-class restaurant, though Bruce thinks that Tony might be more in-tune with his moods than he lets on.  Right now, Bruce needs very much to not be in public.  He would rather not be in public for the next week, but Dr. Cho’s panel is tomorrow, and - 

There’s a knock at the door.

“Can you get that?” Tony yells from the other room.  “This is crucial, I may blow up the hotel - don’t worry, I own the hotel -”

Bruce sighs (his last words will more than likely be a sigh) and gets up from the armchair to get the door.  The first thing he sees is a pile of pizza boxes.  The second thing he sees is Natasha Romanoff, smirking at him.

He blinks a couple of times.  The only thing he seems capable of blurting out, however, is, “Does S.H.I.E.L.D. not pay you enough, or…?”

Her eyebrows go up, and Bruce waits for the cold look on her face from last time to slam down like a window being closed, but instead she laughs.  It’s not what he’s expecting; it’s low, deep in her throat.  He tries not to think about that too much.

“I’ll say that it doesn’t hurt to have a little extra cash around,” Natasha replies.  “But I’m on assignment.  S.H.I.E.L.D. pays me enough, but I don’t really _need_ extra money.  When you have too much stuff, it just turns into dead weight eventually.”

Ah.  Bruce tries not to think about  _that_ for an entirely different reason.

“And you’re just allowed to tell me this?” he asks, recovering enough to take the pizza boxes from her.  He doesn’t quite invite her inside, but he does give her a questioning look.  She shakes her head, folding her arms and leaning against the door frame.

“Fury wants me to keep an eye on you,” she admits.  “We discussed it, and decided it might be better to be upfront about it.  So - here I am.  You look fine.  I should get going before my ‘boss’ fires me.”

“Yeah.  Um, probably.”  The pang of disappointment he feels is a mystery to Bruce.  “Before Tony blows up the hotel.”

“Oh, yay.”  Bruce chokes on a laugh at her dry tone.  “It’s always fun when that’s a thing that happens.  I’m definitely getting out of here.  I’ll see you around.”

He doesn’t even have time to say ‘bye’ before she closes the door.  There’s a crash from the other room and Bruce winces, wondering if he should find cover or something.  A moment later Tony pokes his head out the door and beams.  

“No explosions today!” he announces, apparently oblivious to their S.H.I.E.L.D. visitor.  “Did we get the food?  I’m starving.”

* * *

Bruce sees Natasha a few more times, intermixed with the other delivery people the pizza place has employed.  She always plays the part perfectly - looks just as bored as her coworkers right up until he opens the door.  She sticks around to talk, effortlessly keeping the conversation mundane and steering clear of her work life.  He asks her if she wants to stick around and share one of the pizzas a few times, but she always declines.  She cites work and only work, and even from their light conversations Bruce is able to glean that there isn’t much else she does.

Not that he’s one to talk.

He eventually admits that he’s a fan of Helen Cho’s (just barely managing to keep from going on about it for hours).  He tries to make like he’s casual about it, but a few days later he finds tickets to a convention in Seattle that will feature her, and they’re definitely not from Tony.

“Thank you so much,” he stammers the next time Natasha shows up with pizza.

“For the food?  When’s the last time you’ve eaten?  Did you skip all your meals for the last two days again?”

“No, I meant - what do you mean, again?”

Natasha shrugs, then smirks.  Which means that she isn’t going to answer.

Bruce lets it go; trying to get an answer out of Natasha is like pulling teeth out of a tiger’s mouth.  “I meant for the tickets to Dr. Cho’s panel.  I just… it’s just that there’s no way I can possibly go.”

Natasha tilts her head to the side.  “Why not?  You went to that convention here in Manhattan.  Just ask Stark if you can take his jet.  He’ll either say yes without really paying attention or insist that he go with - I wouldn’t put it past him to be interested as well.  It’s why I put two tickets in there.”

Bruce still balks at the thought of being around other people, but at the same time the last thing he wants is for Natasha’s gift to go to waste.  He’s sure that Tony would agree.  He’s never been to Seattle.  Him and Tony both need to get out of the Tower and go somewhere (it’s been a while).  Bruce thinks he might’ve forgotten what fresh air feels like.

“They’re platinum pass tickets,” Natasha sing-songs.  “Which means you get to cut in line…”

“Pretty sure Tony would do that anyway,” Bruce mutters.  “Alright, Miss Romanoff, you’ve convinced me.”

“Good.”  She looks a little too smug, so Bruce (without thinking about it) rolls his eyes and nudges her with his elbow.  He has an internal freakout immediately afterward, but Natasha just goes with it, elbowing him back just a bit harder.

“I’ll send you a thank you card,” he promises.

“I look forward to it.”

* * *

He does send her a thank you card (the platinum pass got himself and Tony to meet her in person, and he’d been shocked to discover she’d been following his work for years), along with tickets to an opera in D.C. because she mentioned in passing that she’s always enjoyed the opera (”It’s overdramatic, but sometimes it’s nice to see people exude so much emotion.”).

He gets a text from her the day the tickets were supposed to arrive.   _There are two tickets here, Doc.  Go with me?_

This time, he doesn’t even have to think about it before he texts her back.

_Sure_.


End file.
